It was a rather unremarkable morning. The sky was a pale grey and the grass of the front lawn was still damp from the downpour of the previous night. The birds could be heard in the distance, chirping relentlessly, and the soft whooshing of tires through puddles was the only other sound. Across the road, water dripped slowly and silently into an overflowing bin. The smells of wet tarmac and lavender pressed against my nostrils; the overwhelming scents made me feel slightly nauseous. My heart pounded crazily against my ribcage and my hair was stuck to my head due to sweat. I was finally alone and absolutely terrified.
I had known it was going to be a bad day before I even woke up properly. There was a knot in my stomach the moment I opened my eyes�” a feeling of panic I couldn’t quite place. I lay back against my soft pillows, urging myself to go back to sleep, but the panicky feeling forced me to full alertness. I crawled over to the window at the end of my bed and peered through the sheer curtains: my parents had just left and were preparing to Disapparate. Again, panic nagged at my insides, but due to my long sleep my brain wasn’t working properly, so I couldn’t interpret my unease.
I got up carefully and walked over to the crystal mirror that dominated my bedroom. I looked terrible: my long blonde hair stuck up in odd places, there were dark red bruises underneath my brown eyes, and angry red spots dotted my hairline. I was definitely paler, and as my skin was already transparent, this was certainly an achievement. Pulling a simple black day robe from my closet, I dressed quickly and attempted to comb my hair into submission. I gave up after several fruitless endeavours and walked slowly out of my bedroom doors and to the stairs.
I stumbled on the first step. My legs felt heavy and there were tingling sensations in my feet, as though they had not been used for a long time. I examined my left foot closely; it was no different, except- it seemed as though I had lost weight. I examined my wrist and gasped when I could make my thumb and littlest finger meet around it. On the right hand side, a circular bone protruded that I had never seen before. Something was seriously wrong.
I inhaled sharply, and then winced at a pain in my ribs. Gripping the rail tightly, I ignored my shaking legs and descended the steps like a toddler who had just learnt to walk. Every step took a huge amount of effort, and although there were only thirty-two, I had to stop and rest twice.
The kitchen door was ajar, and I suddenly realised I was hungry. There was a pot of tea upon the oak table, and I poured myself a cup and sat down.
It was still boiling; my parents must have left straight after breakfast. I drank as fast as the heat would allow me to; it felt warm against my parched throat and made me feel fuller. After I had finished it, I could barely move as I was so full up. I was surprised; normally it would take four slices of buttered toast to satisfy the gnawing ache in my belly.
Now I had awoken further, the feeling of panic was growing. Although nothing was obviously different, there were subtle, inexplicable changes I couldn’t understand. Why had I lost so much weight? Why was I so uncomfortably full after a cup of tea? Why was I so weak?
Then a horrible thought invaded my brain: had I been sick? I dismissed it at once; my parents were rich enough to put me in a private hospital. They would never put my health at risk by keeping me at home.
Feeling uneasy, I got up carefully and tottered towards the front room. As soon as I opened the door, I could smell my mother’s perfume: lavender. It always reminded me of babies, although I had never understood why. It really didn’t suit her; it was soft and gentle whereas she was harsh and lively. Something spicy would have been more appropriate.
I sank into a black velvet couch, feeling grateful as relief coursed through my tired legs. Closing my eyes, all I could see was hot redness as I tried to picture the events of the previous night.
It had been my father’s birthday, the first one we had spent together as a family in fifteen years, because my parents had been in Azkaban for ages. My aunt and cousin had come to celebrate with us. There had been wine…
Everything seemed to click into place. The weakness, the grogginess, and the lack of appetite… they were totally usual after drinking alcohol.
But that doesn’t explain your weight loss, said a small voice inside of me.
“Shut up, brain,” I muttered out loud. Having an explanation was comforting, and I had never been one to decline comfort. During the sixteen years that was my life, I had always taken the easiest route. Consequently, I had achieved mostly ‘Acceptable’ grades in my O.W.L.s. The professors had always been telling me that if I’d only worked, I could have got ‘Outstanding’ in their class.
I felt a pang of longing as I thought of Hogwarts. There was still a month until I began my seventh year. I felt somewhat irritated at the fact that I still had to wait a month to use magic, but the thought of my birthday excited me; I’d always loved cake and presents.
A newspaper caught my eye. The last one I had seen announced the return of the Dark Lord and the appointment as Rufus Scrimgeour as Minister of Magic. This time the headline spoke of a Muggle family of four that had been murdered near London.
“Hasta la vista, filth,” I muttered, grinning.
The smile was wiped off my face when I saw the date: 17th October 1996. It couldn’t be right. There had to be a mistake. Two months could not have passed since I’d gone to sleep.
Suddenly, the front door crashed open. I dove behind the sofa instinctively. A loud squeaking noise told me there was a house-elf, but I didn’t know who else was there, and in my weakened, wandless condition, I was in no position to fight.
“Homenum Revelio!” screamed the harsh voice of my mother.
I was torn between running out before the spell discovered me and staying where I was. I was too angry and confused to think properly, which made me hesitate. Luckily, she must have directed the spell upstairs as the sweeping, shadowing sensation did not engulf my body.
“She’s not here, Bella,” said my father impatiently.
“You fool!” she bawled at the house-elf. “Crucio!”
It shrieked in pain. I could imagine it writhing on the floor in agony beneath my mother’s unforgiving scowl. I had never seen her that way before, although I had heard about it from others. But finally experiencing it for myself frightened me.
“What part of give her potion every twelve hours don’t you understand?” she bellowed over the house-elf’s sobs. “She’s woken up now! She’s gone! Her death will be your entire fault!”
The house-elf’s screams were becoming quieter. My mother’s Cruciatus Curses had become stronger since she’d left Azkaban, and many house-elves had lost their sanity when they’d met the wrong end of her wand.
“You’ve got to calm down!” snapped my father. “We’re not going to find her while we’re torturing house-elves!”
“It needs to be punished! I will not have Evie condemned like Draco because of our failures, Rodolphus! She was safe while the Dark Lord thought she was dying!”
“That’s why we need to find her, now! She can’t have gone too far; her wand is still in the safe!”
The door slammed shut again. I stayed crouched behind the couch, shocked. What had happened to Draco? I had always looked out for him; he was my baby cousin. My anger had ebbed away completely, as now I knew they had done it for my safety. For one moment, I considered going straight back to bed.
But I had never been a selfless person. I wasn’t about to waste my life for my parents’ piece of mind. I ran over to the safe and entered the combination; it swung open and I seized my wand, and then took as many Galleons as I could fit into my pockets for good measure.
It didn’t take long for me to fill a bag with robes: I was seventeen now and therefore able to use magic. My heart pounded as I raced down the stairs, leaping over the glassy-eyed house-elf in my haste to leave the house. I stepped out into the front garden, and there I was. That was when my story began.
Enchanted Slumber by Lyratearsx
Story Notes:
Thank you to my betas Ashley and Katie!
Chapter Notes: This is basically background information before the story starts. Enjoy!
Chapter Endnotes: I hope you enjoyed it. The warnings are for later chapters.